Chilmark
by ThePattern
Summary: What looks to be a simple cryokinesis case takes a twisted turn when Peter comes up missing. It's up to Dunham to put together the pieces to get him back - but will she get to him before his warped captor ends his life? Read and find out!
1. What of Ice?

I no in**fringe**ment intended.

This is my first fan-fiction here and I hope everyone who reads it will enjoy it. I will say that I have added an OC in the story and most of the time I don't do that. I not a fan of OC's in fan-fictions but I don't mind reading about them as long as they aren't going to be a main installment into the story. My OC is just there to help move along the story and after the last half of chapter one and some in chapter two she'll likely not be seen again. Anyway, I hope that, whoever you are, will read the story and love it – I hope.

Oh, I realize that I am not very good at punctuation and grammar sometimes. I try but I'm only so good. So, that being said, constructive criticism and critiques are more than welcome. I ask that you be nice to me though – I try.

Read and Review after the first chapter!

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_January 14TH – 3:50 PM_

The clack of her shoes meeting the linoleum floor of the old school was muted to to Olivia as she briskly walked to Walter Bishop's lab. Her focus was on the file she held before her. She turned a page in the folder and studied the text and images it had to offer noting the crime scenes and their frozen state. Walter would love this. They had dealt with fire before but not ice. What more was the prospect of finding someone with the cryokinesis ability and Olivia was sure that Walter would love that even more. She smiled and stopped before the door of the lab and opened it. She stepped into the large area just in time to see Gene, untied and free, amble across the room. Her bell clanked with each step she took. Confused, Olivia looked around for Astrid and Walter. "Hello?" she called and stepped deeper into the lab, placing her folder on the first counter she walked by. She headed toward Gene who had stopped and was silently chewing her cud. Olivia placed a hand on her side once she reached her. It was oddly quiet and she wasn't sure that she liked that. The lab this quiet usually meant something was wrong. Olivia reached out to Gene's halter and took hold of it and guided the cow back to her pen. The bovine sauntered over to her feed bucket and stuck her nose in it content to eat what had been given to her earlier that morning. Olivia stepped out of the small pin and walked back to the center of the room.

"What do you mean, _he never came back_?" came a muffled voice from beyond the entrance door. Olivia identified it as Astrid and took a step toward the door that the lab assistant stood behind.

"Exactly what I said… he never came back. How much more clear can I be?" said Walter as he stepped through the threshold behind Astrid who had opened the door before Olivia had the chance to do so. The younger woman looked irked and worried.

"How can you not know where he went?" she said.

"He may be my son, but he's old enough to take care of himself!" Walter snapped back, glancing at Olivia.

"Peter is missing?" said Olivia but it came out as more of a statement than a question. The last time something like this had happened it had almost ended on a deadly note.

"I was about to say the same thing," came a voice from the open doorway. A young, curly-haired, blond stood in the entryway. Her frame clad in Levi jeans, Wrangler pearl-button button-up shirt, a Bit and Bridle tank, a Carhartt coat, Road Wolf cowboy boots, and her FBI badge that sat neatly on her Tony Lama leather belt. She didn't look happy. Olivia recognized her in almost an instant as agent Stephanie McCoun. Someone she had just recently been acquainted with. Olivia didn't know her that well only knowing what her file had mentioned and in several brief words that had been exchanged in the office. She seemed rough and curt on the outside, any good officer would be, but from what she heard around the office she was a great person and an even better FBI agent. She was married to a Navy officer, had a daughter, and a deep love for anything horses, a degree from MIT, and a passion for weapons. Why she had joined the FBI and had clearance to know about the Fringe division was beyond any reason Olivia could fathom.

McCoun stepped forward and lifted the folder she had in hand toward Dunham. Olivia stepped forward, took it, and opened it. "It would seem that Peter Bishop has made a name for himself." She said and watched as Dunham looked through the folder. She didn't understand the powerful truth behind her statement. Olivia was surprised to see countless pictures of Peter in various places and she could feel her heart sink to her gut. This was not good at all. "These pictures were taken by this dead man," she said and reached over to grab the folder Olivia had sat down only minutes before. McCoun had noted the file name and she flipped to the second page and showed Dunham the man she was talking about. "Last night we tracked him down only hours before he was killed. Anyone want to guess where he was found before his icy murder?" she said and looked over the small group. "In front of the Bishop's home. He had come onto our radar about a month ago when some odd, but petty, theft had been conducted. Some fertilizers where stolen from a local gardening store along with an entire shipment of mercury thermometers." She said and shifted her weight in an almost uncomfortable manner. "Last night he left his position outside of the house before Peter left the building. The FBI followed him for sometime but when he pulled into a truckers stop and bedded down for the night they left. That's where the mistake was made. Another hour later he was moving again but before we could move in to get him he had already taken Peter, made a drop, and was found dead along with his car."

"A drop?" Walter asked and stepped forward with worry.

"Yes, we assume that Peter was the drop. He wasn't found in the car but his coat was along with his cell phone." The last bit of information seemed to make things worse. Without a cell phone there didn't seem like there would have been any way to track him. "Oh, and before I forget," McCoun said and took the folder from Olivia and flipped to the last page. There was a picture with the words "be a better man than your father I wa-" written hastily on the pavement in the grime and mud of the ally street, frozen over and well preserved. However, it looked unfinished with an unfinished word and a drag mark from what seemed to be a finger. Olivia swallowed hard and looked up to agent McCoun.

"Is that all?" she whispered knowing that if she spoke any louder her voice would give away how unraveled she was becoming.

"Yes, that's all that Broyles told me. You might want to call him." She said before she turned away from them and headed for the door. "I'd stay and help but I was strictly informed to not intervene. Good luck Dunham." She said before she finally disappeared from the doorway and made her way down the hall back to her truck with a prayer on her lips for Peter, Olivia, Walter, and Astrid. They would need all the help they could get.


	2. There you are

Here is chapter two! Thanks for those of you who have commented and those who have watched and faved.

I would especially like to thank Swing Girl At Heart for being my Beta reader. ^^

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January 14th 1:35 AM

[The early morning after Peter's reported disappearance]

Darkness enveloped the room and Peter as he stood with hands bound behind his back. A thick cotton rope pulled his arms toward the top of the wall that was behind him. The upward pull forced him to stand. A large heating and cooling system alternated between the extreme settings of hot and cold. He didn't know how long he had been there. The deep shadows of the chamber and the lack of widows and clocks kept him from knowing the time of day. All he knew and understood was the extreme heat that now filled the space he was standing in. Sweat coursed down his broken half-clad form and stung the open wounds that now littered his exposed flesh. He wasn't sure how much more he could take of this treatment. This wasn't like the time he'd been electrocuted, when vinegar- and gasoline-soaked sponges had been forced up his nose and an electric current run through them and into his head. No, that was a walk in the park compared to this.

He had been standing for hours. Then moment he leaned over to take the pressure off his feet, ankles, and legs the man that held him prisoner had come in and slashed open the front his shoulders. Leaning forward was out of the option and the pain in his lower half was migrating up his body. Standing didn't seem like such a bad thing but once the fourth hour had slowly come around things started to hurt a little more. The bi-polar temperature of the room made things worse.

He shifted his weight and grunted at the shock of pain that coursed up from his weakened right knee. It was the one that had taken a nasty blow during his abduction. He guessed it must have been the one he had fallen on once the chloroform had hit his senses. He shuffled about again wriggling his wrists against the cotton bindings. Waves of hot pain poured out from the slashes on his shoulders as he jerked them about trying to free himself. After a minute or two he gave up, his muscles protesting against his abuse. He knew better than to do more damage to himself than his antagonist already had.

The air conditioner rumbled to life and he sighed. "Not again…" his voice cracked with dehydration. This was the third time the air had come on. He knew the room would drop to temperatures cold enough to freeze the sweat that had acuminated on his body and the blood that was still seeping from his wounds. He shifted painfully and shivered, suddenly and violently, with the air that blew directly down upon him. The room was already several degrees lower than it had been only a minute ago. Just then the door to the room opened wide and light poured in from the outside… wherever that was. A man stepped into the light, his bright blue eyes landed on the grimy mess of his captive. The man was unfazed by the chill of the room as he walked toward his victim.

"Ah… Peter, you're doing much better than I would have anticipated." He said with a smile and took several more steppes toward him. Peter recoiled from the bright light as his eyes slowly adjusted. The gashes on his shoulders throbbed more  
painfully as his eyes landed on his abductor. "So, are you going to do what I want?" The man asked, his voice well mannered and polite, completely contradicting the situation. Peter smirked.

"Probably not," he said. It wasn't a smart move but Peter really didn't give a damn. This fool had taken him against his will, strung him up like an animal, tortured him with sensory deprivation, extreme temperatures, forced standing, slashed shoulders, and water denial. If he thought he was going to get any answers he was wrong. Peter Bishop was unique that way. If he didn't want to give out answers he didn't give them out. You'd have to steal them.

Peter shifted his weight again and looked over the man's face. In an instant the blue-eyed man lashed out at the Bishop and landed a hard and solid punch upon one of the slashed shoulders. Blood sprayed forth with the force of the hit and speckled the faces, arms, and chests of both males. Peter threw back his head in pain and a scream boiled up from his gut but was lost somewhere in his throat. The nameless man chuckled a little as he drew back his hand and wiped the crimson liquid onto his pants.

"Willing or not you will do as I have asked," he said and turned to leave the room. He shut the door and the sound of heavy locks sliding home filled the chilling air. Peter sighed and attempted to relax only to fail. His right shoulder felt like it was on fire and he could feel his gut roll with nausea from the white-hot pain. Tears moistened his eyes and suddenly - he wanted nothing more than to cry. It sounded weak and pitiful but he didn't really care. The pain he was filling would not, if even for a moment, relent. The hot and cold that continually renewed its self thanks to the perverse mind of his unknown captor made things throb anew with each change of the temperature. The controlled hot and cold did untold horrors to his wounds and body. Dehydration was setting in and he could feel his mouth start to become dry and tacky even as he shivered violently in the sudden piercing cold. The same unnatural cold that was brought on by the quiet hum of a large fan and a cooling component somewhere above his head.

A thin sheet of ice had started to form on his back and the freshly flowing blood from his right shoulder was starting to freeze. His teeth chattered and his beaten frame shivered and shook in a vain attempt to warm itself. He knew the heat would turn on soon and melt away the ice on his weak physique and the blood would drip a little faster before it began to dry up. His body would burn with the parched air that would beat down on him much like the white-knuckled fist of his captor. After all that, he felt he had a right to _cry_ since he knew he could end his suffering with the simple compliance to the sick mans request. However, he knew he could never risk Agent Dunham's life for the sake of his own – nor any others.

A sighed passed his nose once more and the door again was opened to let in the blinding light from somewhere beyond the room. Peter recoiled from it and blinked rapidly. The stranger stepped forth once more toward Peter with a tattered piece of cloth in his hand. The man reached forward and wrapped the material around Peter's eyes and tied it tight to his head. Peter grunted with the unexpected force his captor exerted to knot the blindfold in place. The man stepped away from Peter and the sound of large industrial lights coming on made the Bishop flinch though it was barely notice for all the shivering he was doing. "Now," the man spoke and turned back to Peter, "let's get this show started… shall we?" The man said and Peter could feel his heart race with a renewed fear. Show? Thousands of possibilities ran through his head and each made him sick to his stomach. The man turned to the camera he had set up and started counting, "0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21…" he continued onward but with each enunciation of each of the numbers Peter could feel his heart and gut sink and his ears become numb to the sounds.

The heat roared to life.


	3. Paperwork and Movies

I'd like to apologize for the delay. Life and school have been the reasons I haven't be able to put this chapter up. Oh, and there are some longer paragraphs in this chapter so please bare with me. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers as well as my Beta Reader ^_^

January 14th 10:15 PM

For the umpteenth time, Olivia counted the hours since Peter's abduction. "Twenty four…"she whispered to herself as she ran over the two files about Peter's case. She was at her home now sitting at her kitchen table, Papers were strewn everywhere – the contents of any and all cases that had anything in common with the one she was now trying to solve. She had worked all day on the case with little headway into it. Astrid had tried to help but with Walter pacing about the lab mumbling things about the parallel universe and occasionally slipping into bouts of violent fits of stress, worry, and anger, nothing was getting done fast. She had called in a team along with Broyles to investigate the crime scene further but there was hardly anything left of it. The ice had melted away in a short warm spell during the day. She needed something, anything, to point her in the right direction. The only thing she seemed to have put together was a timeline that was broken and missing large bits of information. It was practically useless.

A knock at her door startled her out of her thoughts and she stood up to go and answer it. She looked through the peephole and was surprised to see McCoun standing in view. Olivia immediately opened the door in time to see her rise back up from picking a package up from the ground. She turned it over in her hand and looked at it suspiciously before handing it to Olivia. Olivia stepped to the side to allow room for McCoun to come in without a spoken invitation.

"Thank you," McCoun said and stepped inside and Olivia shut the door behind her. Olivia was still looking at the package when McCoun spoke up after a glance about the apartment. "How have you been?" She asked as she shrugged out of her Carhartt and turned to look at the agent who was still turning over the parcel. Olivia looked up after a moment and flashed a weary smile.

"I've been better," she said and reached out to take McCoun's coat and hang it on a coat rack that was beside the door. McCoun nodded though Olivia didn't see it with her back turned.

"I'm sorry for what has happened and that I was so curt earlier. Broyles has a knack for bothering me for things I know he can do himself." She said and looked over the pictures that hung on the apartment walls. Olivia gave her a quizzical look and McCoun smirked when she caught the glance out of the corner of her eye. She shrugged nonchalantly and didn't offer an explanation. "He asked me to give you the case though he and I both knew that it could be a risky move." She said and Olivia understood what she meant. If cases hit close to home it usually ended up being a high stress, tension, emotionally draining case that could lead to unwanted consequences. She was all too familiar with those kinds of consequences. McCoun sighed then and looked to the kitchen and then to Olivia again. "Boyles wants this case solved just as much as you do. Peter is a valuable asset to the Fringe department. " She said.

Olivia looked down to the package she had in her hand and then back to the FBI agent. "Thank you for your help but what could you know that I don't?" she asked.

"Sometimes it just takes a new set of eyes, ears, and a fresh mind." She said and Olivia couldn't argue. McCoun glanced to the kitchen once more and Olivia followed her gaze.

"I haven't made much progress," Olivia said as she walked into the kitchen and to the table. McCoun followed behind her and she let her eyes fall to the cases that Olivia had opened back up to review. McCoun stood beside the table and looked over the notes that Dunham has jotted down. She also took a look at the pictures and notes within the files themselves. Olivia watched the woman for a moment and slouched against the table a little. McCoun looked up to her briefly before she returned her gaze to the cases.

"You've made some progress and that's better than nothing." She said and the statement Olivia made her feel hopeful – if only slightly. "Why don't you open that package of yours?" McCoun said not lifting her gaze and Olivia looked down to the little box and couldn't help the mild shiver that ran the length of her back. Something about the parcel made her stomach roll and she didn't like it. Olivia tore her fingers into the cardboard box and discovered a DVD case covered in a thin bubble wrap sheet. After removing the bubble wrap and examining the disk, she found it unmarked and unlabeled. "What do you make of this?" she asked McCoun who looked up to the item she had in hand.

"I don't know. Why don't you put it in a DVD player or something so we can see what it is?" She suggested and they moved to the living room. Olivia loaded the disc into her DVD player and hit play. Both Agents stood and waited as the black screen slowly faded onto a man. He stood somewhat close to the camera, a smile on his half-masked face, as he took a breath and waited for a time. The room he was standing in was cement and plain - giving no indication as to where he was. Then the man started to count. "0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21 now lets step back to two. Olivia I trust that you are likely watching this from the safe confines home. Probably with something to take the edge of the day off - am I right?" Olivia froze as she watched the unknown man speak to her through the television. Who was he? Something close to horror suddenly seized her heart as she watched the stranger on the screen.

He had stopped talking and was looking behind him at someone or something. Olivia hoped and prayed that she was wrong about her assumption as to whom this man might be and who he might be looking at. The man on the TV laughed lightly through his nose and looked back to the camera and started to speak again. "Now Miss Dunham I am going give you a clue as to where I am. Well, I hope you have a pen and paper ready because I'm sure you'll only want to hear this once." He said and reached forward and took a hold of something and when he drew it back it was a wooden bat. A Louisville Slugger was held in front of the camera and blocked his masked face for a moment as he showed Olivia what it was. He took the bat away from the screen and smiled as he stepped to the side revealing whom he had been hiding. Olivia bit her lip to suppress a gasp that threatened to escape her lips in surprise.

Peter was strung up with his hands behind his back in the center of the room. He was sweating profusely and blood, turned black with age, was crusted around the many bleeding wounds on his body. The two deep gashes on his shoulders made Olivia's gut turn with nausea and she fought the urge to empty her stomach. Bruises littered his face and unclad upper body and he looked like death. Olivia turned her attention to the man that now circled Peter and watched as he twirled the bat in his hands. "I hope you're ready Olivia." He said and she could see the confusion on Peters face, as things in the room got quiet. She felt tears prick at her eyes as she watched the man wind up his bat. He shifted he feet and squared his shoulders like he was getting ready to hit a baseball that had been thrown his way. "Charlie!" The man suddenly shouted and swung the bat forward and landed a blow to the broken and beaten body of the blindfolded Bishop. The bat landed squarely on his side and Peter was thrown to the side, reopening the wounds on his shoulders.

Blood poured forth like an undammed river. The scream that pealed out over the speakers of the TV made Olivia shiver and her hand to fly to her mouth in a vain attempt to stop the gasp that fled her mouth. The man moved to the opposite side he had hit and swung the bat once more and hit Peter to the other side to center him. "Hotel!" The man yelled after the blow and then backed away to see where he wanted to hit Peter next. He twirled the bat again and found the next place. "India!" He barked and landed the bat to Peter gut. There was a moment of silence as Peter gasped and struggled for breath. The sound of his stunned lungs trying to recover filled the air before the deranged man placed a blow to Peter's right arm. "Lima," the man hissed just loud enough for Olivia to hear. The twisted man was starting to enjoy his treatment of Peter too much and Olivia could see it in the set of his face.

The blows began to blend into one another and soon Peter was no longer able to scream. "Mike!" the man shouted. "Alpha! Romeo! Kilo!" The man didn't stop his beating after that and left the camera running for another minute before the video stopped playing. McCoun reached forward and turned the television off before any more of the horrendous scene could play. She looked over to Olivia and noted the unshed tears that threatened her eyes. "I think I know where Peter is…" She said calmly as she reached down and pulled a tissue from a tissue box and handed it to Olivia. "Charlie, hotel, india, lima, mike, alpha, romeo, kilo – Chilmark. Chilmark is a town just off the states coast near Martha's Vineyard." She said and moved away from the television and toward the door. It was time for her to take her leave. "There is a public ferry that runs through the Vineyard Sound and docks in Vineyard Haven you can go to Chilmark from there. The number two might have been a reference to one of the old docks or something. We'll go there tomorrow and investigate and I'll see what I can dig up at home. I'll take the DVD and try and get a voice analysis on the man in the video." She said to the agent and took the disk from the player. "I'll come by your house in the morning around 7:45 and then we'll head for Chilmark. For now, however, sleep, eat something, and get your strength up." She said as she took her coat from the coat rack and donned it. "Olivia, it would do you good to do as I say. You will be no good to Peter if you can't hold your gun straight or misfire because you were too tired or even get caught by that sick man yourself." McCoun said and Olivia nodded as she watched the other Agent step out into the cold. "Rest well," McCoun said and was out the door, in her truck, and down the street before Olivia could think about saying good-bye.

She walked back toward her bedroom, popped a sleeping pill, and fell exhausted into her bed. In the morning she would start fresh and do things right – like they should be. Still, even as she fell asleep, emotions she couldn't place weighed heavy on her heart.


	4. A Phone Call

January 15th 7:50 AM

Something that could be described as hell burned within him. Every fiber of his being was alight with pain so great he wished that he could fall into the darkness he had been in only moments ago. A groan passed his dry, bleeding, lips as he lay face down on the cold cement floor. The ties to his hands had been cut after he had lost consciousness and his wrists now throbbed dully. He took in a shallow breath and dared to open his eyes. The blindfold was still there. He sighed through his open lips and wished he hadn't. Broken ribs made themselves known and he strained against them in some strange attempt to keep them in their rightful places. He shifted his free hands and arms forward to move himself onto his back. However, a foot stopped him. The icy bottom of the leather shoe pressed down hard upon his tender exposed back. Peter knew who it was and a flutter of panic filled his gut and then his fear came true. The man slowly pushed down upon the Bishop's back and Peter felt that his body might be crushed under the foot of his nameless captor. "Stop…" Peter managed and as soon as the word left his mouth the man stopped.

"I suppose I should," he said and Peter could hear him walk away from him and to the left. "I do need you alive – preferably – though it's not a necessity." The man said and walked back to Peter and placed his foot under Peter's left side. He lifted the broken man onto his side with the tip of his leather-clad foot and dumped Peter onto his back. Peter grunted with the change and the jar his body received when it fell to the side. Tears slipped from his closed eyes and dampened the cloth that covered them. "Olivia should be here in a few hours," the man said casually and the statement all but sent Peter into cardiac arrest. "I sent her the DVD myself you know. That's why I left you for that little while today. Oh, you wouldn't know the time – silly me for forgetting." He said in a mild chastising manner as he reached down and removed the cloth covering Peter's eyes. Peter didn't open his eyes though despite the desire to want to. He was in too much shock already and lights didn't seem like a good idea.

"Why do you want Dunham?" Peter asked tentatively as he took in a shallow breath to help rid him of the overwhelming fear that now coursed in his system.

"She is the key to my undoing and by eliminating her I can move on to bigger things – better things. She's just in my way and I need her out of it," he said and moseyed around Peter. Peter distantly wondered if this was related to the science experiments Olivia had under gone while in the hands of his father. The thought was distant and as soon as it crossed Peter's mind it was gone.

"Then why take me?" Peter questions further trying to gather more answers – more clues. The man stopped for a moment and Peter worried that he had angered the psychopath. A moment later the man was walking again.

"Simple, other than her sister and niece, you are the only other one she values a great deal. I'm not one to go after mother and daughter so I left them alone. You were the next easiest target. The fickle attitude you sometimes have toward your father made you an easy one to pick up. A fight with your ol' man would get you out of the house. My coworker, rest his soul, was more than enough to get someone as strong as you in the back of a car. I suppose I could have gone after Farnsworth or even your father but I knew you would be along side Dunham. I'm a strong opponent but I am no superhero and between the two of you I knew that I wouldn't stand a chance. I had to be wise about my decision and I think I did rather well." He said as he moved away from Peter and took out his phone. "Now, I have to make a phone call to our soon-to-be guest of honor." He said and Peter forced his eyes open to look at the man. He stood causally dialing the numbers to Olivia's cell phone and Peter struggled to lift his arms to get himself up. Peter knew that he wouldn't be able to do anything to the man even if he did get up but he felt he had to do something. He would rather die that let something happen to Olivia.

With the phone to his ear the man waited for Olivia to pick up while he watched Peter with an amused expression. He looked at his watch after a moment before the call went to voicemail. Disappointed he looked at the phone in an upset manner before he retried. _"Hello?"_ Came a familiar voice that made the fire in Peter heart move to his throat.

"Hi, yes, is this Agent Dunham?" the man asked casually.

"This is she," she said, her tone laced with confusion.

"Good, now, I believe I have something of great importance to you." There was a pause on the other end of the phone telling the twisted man that she had guessed who. "Now, if you'd like to see him alive you'll come to Chilmark… alone," the man said and cracked a manic smile. There was a moment of silence as the deranged man waited for the blonds reply.

"Alright," she said and Peter felt his bones become gelatinous and his mind grow blank at her agreement.

"I'll call you later to tell you the next clue… this one will be far less painful. Goodbye Dunham," the man said and snapped the phone shut and made his way over to Peter. "I believe it's past due that you had a proper meal, a good drink, and a bath." He said and the statement confused Peter, as he looked up to the man in a new and more demented light. The man reached down and grasped a handful of Peter's brown hair and picked him up and dragged him down the hall. The ability to scream was lost with a parched throat and mouth. Struggling was not something he could do either. The slashes on his shoulders now told him that they were deep and had severed some of the muscles used to move his arms. Other than his legs he was mostly rendered helpless and immobile, so he was dragged down the hall without so much as a word or struggle.


	5. Godspeed

Sorry that I haven't updated this in a while. Some things in real life needed my full attention. However, now that I am settled into the place I need to be and with the start of the new Fringe season I should be able to update this story every other week. Also, I am in need of a Beta Reader for this chapter the person who was proofreading it for me seems to have , if you are a Beta Reader and are good at it and interested in working on this story then please PM me - I really need another one. Now, with out further delay here is chapter 5 - Godspeed.

[This chapter needs a BETA READER]

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January 15th 7:50 AM

Olivia was up and ready by 7 AM. She was more than eager to be out on the road to Chilmark for the next clue to finding Peter. The drive would be long and the ferry to the island would be painfully slow. She wanted to go now so that she could be in Vineyard Haven by 11 o'clock at best. Olivia was ready. Her Glock was loaded and she had physically prepared herself for the day. Still, she couldn't seem to ride herself of the nagging feeling that something, aside from the obvious, wasn't right. Nervously she looked over her apartment one last time for anything she might need for her trip or during her trip. She shook her head and walked out the door, locked it, and stepped over to the black Lincoln Navigator that she had parked in front of her home. Reaching in she started up the massive SUV and looked to the clock that read 7:50. Olivia looked down the street in time to see Stephanie's blue Ford turn the corner. The nerves she had been fighting flared back anew and she nearly came out of her skin when her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at its display for the phone number. Olivia didn't recognize the digits and promptly pressed end to stop the caller. She didn't have time for crank calls or any other nonsense – she was too worried about what was to come to deal with teenage pranks. Olivia looked back up and watched as McCoun parallel parked in front of the black Lincoln and got out of her vehicle with a few bags in tow. Olivia moved to help her when her phone rang again. She pulled the cell phone out of her pocket. It was the same number and she looked at it quizzically before answering the call. "Hello?" She asked cautiously.

"Hi, yes, is this Agent Dunham?" the man asked casually on the other end.

"This is she," Olivia said confused that the stranger would know her name.

"Good, now, I believe I have something of great importance to you," said the man and Olivia froze where she stood. Her breath caught in her throat and McCoun couldn't help but notice. She moved over to Olivia once she had placed her bags in the SUV. "Now, if you'd like to see him alive you'll come to Chilmark… alone," said the man and Olivia felt that he was happy about what he was doing. His voice told her that he was likely enjoying whatever he was doing and had done to Peter. Olivia felt her gut roll and she fought back the urge to empty her stomach of what she had eaten a little while ago.

"Alright," she managed to choke out.

"I'll call you later to tell you the next 'clue'… this one will be far less painful. Goodbye Dunham," he said and ended the call promptly and left Olivia trembling in the cold winter air looking at McCoun.

"I have to go to Chilmark alone," Olivia said as a shadow seemed to move over the agent as she got into the drivers seat of her car and shut the door with a slam. Suddenly, every crease of concern and fear for her colleague and friend shifted into anger and loathing for the sick and twisted man, no, monster that had done this to him. McCoun quickly slipped around to the driver's side of the black vehicle somewhat taken aback by Olivia's sudden change in mood.

"What? You can't go alone," McCoun said as she came to the window of the driver's side.

"I have to," she said and looked to the blond woman. "If I don't he'll kill Peter," she lied but she knew that if she didn't give McCoun a valid reason she would come along anyway.

"No, that's not an option. I will come with you – I'll take a separate vehicle and when we get to Chilmark we can split up and I'll trail you," McCoun insisted with a anger-set brow as she looked at the younger agent. Olivia returned her harsh look and silence hung between them for a long heavy moment.

"No," Olivia finally said, "you will not go with me. I need to do this alone," she said but McCoun refused.

"The plan I have is safer. What if this sick _freak_ manages to get a hold of you? What then? All this looking, worrying, will be for nothing and we'll likely loose the both of you," she said and Olivia sighed she was irritated with this insistent agent. However, she knew she was right but she also knew that she had to do this alone. She wouldn't endanger McCoun's life for the sake of her own. She would go this alone one way or another. Finally the other agent sighed knowing that Olivia wasn't going to budge. She clenched her jaw and pushed back from the car.

"Well then," she said, "I think you'll find the bag I packed useful and make sure you use caution when driving. It's been snowing in Chilmark and the lower half of the state. There is a winter storm warning that way and it's supposed to make its way up here," she said and Olivia nodded before she put the SUV in drive and pulled out of the parking spot took off down the street. McCoun sighed and shook her head, "Godspeed Olivia, Godspeed," she said as she watched the car turn out of sight.

* * *

January 15th 7:55 - 10:30 AM

* * *

Olivia met the storm head on more than halfway into her trip. The highway was barely visible and she was forced to slow down to 60 miles per hour. It still wasn't a safe speed for the near whiteout conditions but it was the slowest that she could stand to go. Most of the trip she had been running 90 with her blue FBI lights on. She wanted to get to Chilmark as soon as she could even if it meant breaking every law to get there.

Olivia sighed as she dared to press her limits at running 70 in the heavy snowfall. She knew she was taking a huge risk going as fast as she was. However, things were going much smoother since most people had pulled over to the emergency lane to wait out the worst of the storm. Olivia decided to drive in the center of the highway to avoid any potential sideswipes of the pulled over vehicles.

The wind suddenly picked up as she slowed down to take an exit into a more rural part of the state. She drove slowly through the town and finally her vehicle crawled to a stop in front of the ferry's port. It was closed and the thought made Olivia's gut sink to her feet. Shaking her head she hurriedly got out of her car in time to catch the man whom she assumed ran one of the boats. He was walking out of a small building that sat on the sound. It operated as a ticket booth and a place to get out of the weather and wait for the ferry. Olivia jogged up to him in the blinding snow and deafening wind. The man looked up to her as she drew nearer to him. "The ferry is closed ma'am," he called above the roaring wind as he threw up a hand to stop her. Olivia took out her badge and showed it to the gentleman. He took on a worried look as he glanced up at her through the snow.

"Agent Olivia Dunham of the FBI. I need you to take me to Vineyard Haven," she said to the man and he shook his head at her.

"Sorry ma'am but in this storm we aren't going anywhere," he said and moved to walk around her. Olivia blocked his path and took a step closer to him. She had made it this far and she wasn't about to let a storm stop her - end of story. The graying older man looked up at her with disbelief on his face. Surly she wasn't going to press the matter. Was she crazy? The storm was too strong to safely attempt a crossing. He looked as if he were about to voice his fears once more, however, he knew better than to try and stop a federal agent. He had just hoped to discourage her from making him take the ferry back out on the rout to the Vineyard Haven.

"Sir, I don't think you understand. It is mandatory that I get to Vineyard Haven – it could mean the difference between life and death," she said and the man nodded his head at her and turned back to the ferry. He had been defeated. Heaven knew he didn't want to be responsible for the death of someone. Olivia knew that the man had likely only done as she asked out of fear. She didn't mind. It got her what she needed.

"Get in your car miss… you'll be needing it," the man said from over his shoulder and Olivia went back to her Lincoln and drove forward toward the ferry.


End file.
